


The Wrong of You

by VanessaWAGalore



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Metahumans, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaWAGalore/pseuds/VanessaWAGalore
Summary: Barry and Iris have been in each other's radar for years but kept apart by the illegality of meta humans.  Iris has been brought up to be skittish and closed off while Barry has been conditioned by society to only know chaos - despite just wanting some peace.  Together they learn how to become the best versions of themselves... This doesn't mean they'll stay together at the end.





	1. 1. Innocent No More

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired initial by watching "Fast and Furious" but then this became a other thing; and has components from many different books and movies. This keen on details but it's really just a free-write despite the story being a little slow and elaborate at first. Feedback is always welcome :)

**Iris. Age 16.**

 

     “You’ve got to be kidding me? I’m not wearing that,” I say adamantly as I cross my hands over my ever-not-growing chest.  Layed before me, on my flowery purple and teal bed comforter, is a black spandex dress that is entirely too small, open around the chest area in a deep v-cut - that is slightly obscured by yellow laces that only really serves the purpose of pushing up one’s cleavage; and probably ends just below my butt cheeks.  The contrast and message of that seductively wicked dress, against the comforter is ironic given that my dad gave me that comforter; despite knowing that I’d feel childish - and he precisely gifted it to me because he wanted to remind me I would always be his little girl.  That he’s always protecting me. Protecting me from this dress. 

     I’m not going to lie; my dad is intense when it comes to his over protectiveness of me.  Being a cop in the special ops task force does not make matters any easier.  I’m constantly scrutinized and restricted from doing a lot of things.  Sometimes, I get it and it doesn’t bother me as much. But other times, the level of high security with which my dad treats me, makes no sense and is highly aggravating.  I’d definitely say that my personality has altered over the years as I grew up with my dad trying to shelter me from every little thing.  I don’t hate it him for it and I know it comes from a good place, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling weak, skittish, and prudish at times; when the rebellious trait my mom said I used to have wants to jump out - and I shy away from it.

    Linda turns her head to look at me and says, “Come on, Iris. You can’t go to one of these and not dress the part.” She wiggles her eyebrows and does a spin to showcase her outfit. She’a wearing a tight yellow tube top, a burgundy leather skirt, and black shiny black boots.  She looks good. Hot. Impressionable… for my brother, which she honestly doesn’t even have to do given that he’s totally obsessed with her and will confess to it if she does.  Not to mention, she can have whomever she wants.

     But that’s the thing, she’s pulling all the stops to impress someone, I don’t have anyone to impress.  I can go to this thing that I don’t even want to go to in the first place, without having to expose 95% of my body.

     “I wish I didn’t have to go to this. I don’t even like drag racing. You know this from the other two hundred times you’ve asked me to go and I’ve declined,” I exclaim.  It’s true, drag racing isn’t my thing.   Not only is seeing my brother and others putting themselves in danger sickening, but my dad will kick my ass if he caught me at one of those.  Hell, he’d kick Wally’s ass too if he weren’t so good at hiding where he goes every time he sneaks out.  I guess being a speedster gives you a little advantage with sneaking out and getting away with things you shouldn’t be doing.

     When Wally first got his powers he was six years old.  I remember that day and the mayhem that ensued given that the surge of meta humans in Central City was escalating again, and the laws against them were severe.  Brutal.  Severe and brutal laws that my dad regularly enforced and had to disobey to protect his son.  I was playing with my dolls (they were fighting with the male dolls, probably telling those men they know nothing and they should shut up), while Wally was on the floor playing fervently with his toy sports car; mom was ironically reading a newspaper talking about new bills that had been passed in regards to meta human activity.  Things like immediate isolation at even the slightest hint of meta human activity, shock methods, experiments, high-intensity drugs, and even execution.  I wouldn’t know about any of this until after I got a little older.  All I knew was that meta humans were bad as far as the police was concerned - as far as my dad was concerned.

    Wally was moving the car back and forth really fast when suddenly the movements became blurred and his whole body seemed to be shaking.  I remember looking at him and my eyes bulging out.  I remember thinking that how could my brother be bad.  I knew instantly he was a meta human but also knew he was still my brother.  My mom grabbed my arm and held me back, if it was out of caution or fear, I don’t know – maybe it was both.  Wally stayed shaking until he started speeding all around the house as yellow lightning circled all around his body.  After the initial shock, I remember thinking he looked so cool and he reminded me of the superheroes in the comic books.

    When dad came home after mom called him, the chaos stopped and a heavy silence had fallen over the house.  We were all in the living room and just stared at nothing.  Dad told us not to speak of this to anyone and he didn’t have to say it twice given how even six year-old kids knew how the situation was with meta humans.  Wally would be treated like a savage, an animal, and we’d never see him again.

    It took us a while to get out of the initial shock and go back to some semblance of normalcy.  Wally got over the fear of having spontaneous outbursts after he started self-training and getting visits from the speed force, an entity that granted him his powers.  I got used to how it weird it felt to have a dad working in the police force, who dealt with meta humans – arrested them n a daily basis; while having a brother who was essentially a fugitive.  Mom took everything in stride and was the support system for all of us when we broke down, especially my dad - whose loyalty and integrity was being questioned by life itself.

    A big part of my dad’s sheltering of me came from Wally having powers and Wally having friends he brought home who had powers too.  Friends he would discretely send to another part of the house to keep away from me.  I got it then and still get it now - I’d be an alibi to not only my brother in front of the law but also to those friends he brought home.  Too bad, I still saw them in school and talked to a lot of them actually. They were normal kids and lowkey probably liked interacting with the human daughter of a special ops meta human officer. You'd think they hate me but I got nothing of the sort. Wally's doing, perhaps - doubt it's my glowing personality. Wally still tries to obscure me from them on occasion but it’s not as intense as before given that I’ve told him I see them in school, share classes with them; and see them and others using their powers on the sly. A pseudo journalist is nothing if not observant.   It’s also not that bad since the laws and intensity around metas hasn’t been as bad in recent times.  This is in part because of citizens all around the world who have had their governments share similar ideas to ours; and laws against meta humans (shocking) - have been fighting against the dehumanization of the metas.

    Wally lives for the danger of the normalcy of drag racing at 16 years old but also the added danger of using his powers to do it.  I don’t.  The means with which he and other metas race almost completely guarantees they won’t get caught but you just never know.  And I don’t want to be there to see my brother and every other meta that participates, being dragged like animals like I know the police still love to do.  However, today I’m going for the love of journalism, which I know will get me in trouble eventually.

    Linda and I made a bet that consisted of my going to a drag race and co-piloting with one of the racers, if she published her amazing piece about sports wage inequality between women and men that she had been stressing for over a year now.  I didn’t gain anything if she didn’t do it but I wanted to push her to speak her mind and be an advocate for something she really believed in. So, I gave her my attending on of the races as a compensation prize.  Linda Park had this way of voicing her passion and making people reevaluate their views that was utterly astounding.  I really wanted her, who I knew would be a pioneer in the way news media worked in the future; to showcase her talent.  Plus, I like writing about meta humans, it’s just what I’m passionate about but since I can’t that due to the risk of exposing my brother and “WestPark Corp” is still a dream of ours; I had to promote her and live vicariously through her bold piece.

    And so, for being motivational, helpful, and dumb – I have to not only go to a meta human drag race but also _be_ in one with the company of one of the metas.  Resigning and remembering the punishment _I_ chose for myself, I relent to complaining about it. “I won’t give you anymore of a hard time but I’m still not wearing that.”

    “Argh, fine. But you can’t go in that either. What if your driver is Hal or Bruce or Victor? Or, freaking Barry Allen?! No, I can’t allow you to not somewhat show off your hot self to one of them if they’re your driver.” She turns around and starts rummaging through my closet and finds nothing she likes.  She turns around and then grins devilishly.  Grabbing a scissor from my nearby desk, she starts cutting up my snug white long sleeve turtleneck (an attempt on my part to be “sexy”) and leaves only enough fabric to cover my under-boob. _Hello, every teen movie to ever have been made_.  As she tried to make the back symmetrical I thought about Barry Allen.  As _if_ \- he was going to notice me if I was even naked.  Not that I care for his attentions but I hear he’s super into himself, so I doubt he has the attention span to consider someone else.

    I haven’t really met Barry despite him being in my same school for all my life or Wally being close to him.  In fact, Wally doesn’t even bring him home despite them being really close friends – from what I hear; and sharing the same meta human ability.  I’ve seen Barry in passing and I’ve heard about him.  He’s a satirical, thinks the world is at his feet, he’s very smart, and likes to use his powers without any regard.  I haven’t seen him from up-close, really, but I know he’s taller than most guys in our school, has really “attentive” eyes (whatever that means), and brown hair.  

    By default, I don’t like him.  Not because of all the rumors about him but because my brother has always been really weird about him.  Keeping him far away from me in instances when I’ve wanted to interview him for a big piece I’ve been working on for two years about meta humans, that I want to release in the future once the climate about metas has settled.  The only two times he brought him home lasted all of five seconds, literally, because Wally saw me come down the stairs and sped both of them away.  I don’t like him because it makes Wally treat me like my dad does.  It doesn’t make sense but I blame him for that.  For being something _else_ I can’t do or have because I need “protection”. Okay, not _do_ or _have_ like _that._ Obviously, I don’t know him to _do_ him or _have_ him like that.  Even, if did know him I wouldn’t.  I wouldn’t _do_ anyone. You get what I mean.  Also, my brother wouldn’t even let me co-pilot with him anyways.  So, the deviation of my thoughts is uncalled for.

    I feel a breeze on my midriff and look up at the mirror.  My whole stomach is exposed and in conjunction with my black jeans, I’ve got to say this is very acceptably sexy, for me.  Somewhere in between the inflicted enigma of Barry Allen, Linda let go of my ponytail and my massive curls were in full display – locks tickling along my bra strap level.  I won’t tell you I’m having an aha-moment because I _feel_ and look like myself even though there’s some changes to my appearance.  It’s kind of like, a this-is-me moment.  But, I push that thought away. 

     Linda looks at me over my shoulder in the mirror, the heeled boots making her seem taller than me when we’re really the same size; and smiles.  “For the love of journalism,” she says dramatically.  She throws me a jacket and tilts her head at my stomach to signal that I need to cover up for my mom.  Dad is on-duty until the next morning and my mom isn't as dramatic but she is still pretty skittish. 

     I shut off the lights and think, _may the lies be ever in our favor._

 


	2. 2. Dare To Defy

  **Barry Allen. Age 16.**

 

  The adrenaline before a race is only comparable to when I run.  There’s just this rush that comes with racing, something about it being so dangerous but common to the world, and corrupting it with my “unlawful” and “savage” powers - that is out of this world.  It’s the sweet rebellion and salty discrimination feeding the hunger in me that is void of acceptance that society keeps from me.  It’s interesting because I’m accepted perfectly without my powers; I’m smart, good-looking, and never get in trouble as far as my human persona is concerned.  I come from a loving family that everyone loves.  But then, the part of me that has changed me genetically, shaped me growing up, and humbled me - believe it or not, taught me restraint, and responsibility; is brutalized and demonized by most of the same people.  They can go fuck them themselves.

 

    I enjoy escaping from the reality of having to hide by racing and it’s even more enjoyable that I do it under the nose of those who shun me  and others like me.  Ironic that when they’re in a tickle, it’s meta humans who save them.  We’re not deemed good Samaritans or superheroes like in the comic books. Those acts of heroism is only known to us, of course,  since they ignore the clear signs of meta human activity when saved and only don’t out us because we did something for them in return. Sometimes. Sometimes they don’t out us.

 

                  But I’ve learned to live with the fact that both of my worlds can’t coexist, as have the other metas.  And I’d be lying if I say we don’t have fun with the humans’ imposed marginalization of us in society.  It’s fun to mess with them and have them chalk it up to it being global warming, which is fucking serious; when Spark, a meta with lasers in his eyes; gives someone intense hot flashes on a relatively warm day.  Or when Illuminata uses her light-emanating power to bathe herself in a blinding white light and repeat biblical verses to the believers - who are ironically pro-killing meta humans.

 

    That’s what most of the younger meta crowd does – be advantageous pranksters.  I know of older metas who own secret organizations that produce sickening amounts of money a-la _The Godfather_ style.  I’m also aware of some that have wrecked havoc in hopes of world domination in other parts of the world in which, yes; metas are accepted and elite groups of heroes fight for humanity against the deranged metas.  I’m positive we’ll get there but I don’t know when.  The speed force won’t let me glimpse into the future, typical.

 

                  “Dude, it’s time,” shouts Hal Jordan from a few feet away.  We’re outside Ferris Air, Carol Ferris’ family-owned land, and the crowd is starting to get huge.  The atmosphere is always the same - nervous, anxious, and almost devilish.  For the majority of these people, this where they can be free and act like normal teenagers, as normal as meta human teenagers can be.  I don’t know how it happened but Ferris Air and the drag races became like the hangout spots you would see on TV in _California Dreams_ or _Drake and Josh_ for us metas.  Sure we can go to the normal hang outs but it’s just more time we have to spend hiding ourselves. Pretending. 

               

                   We’re all congregated into a big pile around the middle of the long strip of land.  The crowd starts dispersing itself to make way for Zatanna, who creates a force field to cover what we make our racing course - is also the gateway to allowing non-metas in, heals people who get injured, alters our weather circumstances… _Damn, we really need to start paying her._

                She’s wearing a black and white jumpsuit that is entirely too tight for her to breathe, tight enough to have guys swallowing hard.  Something Constantine doesn’t appreciate even though she ignores them.  She commands silence in order to concentrate and everyone obeys.  She pulls out her wand and starts chanting.  The words sound beautiful and it sickens me that if non-metas were to hear it, they’d look at her like something appalling.  There’s a sparking light that starts coming out from the tip and smoke starts to envelope us.  She shouts, “West. Allen.” And that’s me and Wally’s cue to run as fast as we can around the crowd in order to contain the sound and movement of the Zatanna’s force field from reaching the city’s parameters.  Zatanna’s eyes turn white as an indigo force field starts forming in a dome-like form. 

 

Wally and I run faster as we feel the force field strengthening.  We see people, meta and non-meta alike, getting breathless due to loss of oxygen and sudden exhaustion due to our power.  It’s something I hate knowing I’m doing to them and I know Wally does too – he wouldn’t do it at the beginning until Zatanna started creating bigger barriers and he saw I couldn’t handle it myself.  Finally, with one last “esolc” which means “close” in her language, Logomancy; the force field is created.  Wally and I come to a stop and hug Zatanna as we hear people catching their breaths.  She tries to brush us off and feign that we’re being dramatic but we know that when we forget to hug her, she gets upset.

 

John Constantine instructs everyone to move close to the edges of the force field as he needs an open space for his use of magic.  John Constantine,  is the man, the one that creates the illusion of our racing course and what our hangout look like. He takes us to different places all the time.  He takes a deep breath and looks at Zatanna, which I’ve deduced is where he gets his inspiration for the destinations he takes her too.  We once went to what seemed to be like the Underworld because they were on a break.

 

He starts making gestures with his fingers and the illusion stars to cloud the force field, replacing the almost holographic indigo barrier.  A rocky forest scenery starts appearing, a distant beach can be seen, and a  very narrow road starts appearing.  The crowd is suddenly in an outside area that has polished wooden benches and lunch tables, lit tiki torches, a fireplace made out of marble emanating green sparks, a blue pool that look the exact color of Zatanna’s eyes, and varying sizes of rocks surrounding the area to shelter us from the cold.

                Hal shouts, “This is fucking awesome,” and looks at Zatanna and winks.  She smirks very faintly and looks at Constantine who is deep in thought. 

   Instantly, everyone snaps out of their stupor and the place is all energy. The noise is deafening but welcoming.  Different colors and visuals permeate the air from all angles due the different powers everyone produces.  People are flying all over the place – actually flying.  In the distance Arthur is creating tumultuous waves that Mera surfs on without a board supporting her.  Firestorm and Illuminata kiss while fireworks erupt in the air above them. 

    I pass by Carter and Kendra who are making out as if they don’t so every two seconds outside of this barrier.  Carter is especially animated.  Always.  I swear he’s always ready to go but I can’t judge him given that I don’t know what it’s like to have the girl of your dreams, literally; and from your past life - in front of you.  Dreaming of her and knowing your soul has missed her for centuries despite only being a live for a little over a decade.  

    I go to the girl of my dream.  My Porsche Boxster/Cayman.  She’s shiny and all black on the outside, rims included; and deep red leather on the inside.  Lined up next to the one who’s been through all my wins with me - are the other racers cars.  There’s a purple jewel-colored Corvette, a yellow Mustang, red Mazda RX-8, grey Honda S2000, black Pontiac Solstice, Toyota Celica, and blue Dodge Viper.  The owners are on the hood of their car just talking aimlessly and with no sense of animosity in sight.  We race for the thrill and to provide a spectacle for those in the hangout; not because we have any beef.  Bragging rights might be a form compensation but other than that, we don’t fight each other when there’s a whole world outside this mirage against us.

    Bruce comes up to me as I sit on the hood of my car taking in the scene before me and pats my shoulder sternly. “Be careful out there. You know Constantine doesn’t safe-proof the courses,” he says simply.  Just as he came - and ever the enigma, he just leaves with a trail of girls behind him.  The non-meta girls love to flock towards Bruce because of the troubled soul thing he has going on and since there’s no _real_   "threat" to them because he doesn’t have powers.

    Since they’re in a group, Zatanna stops them just as they’re chasing Bruce in order to “foorp”, or “proof” them; which really just hypnotizes them.  This is done to take away the ability of outing us to the public.  It’s something that allows them to be aware of what they’ve experienced here but not being able to physically say it to anyone else who they know haven’t experienced it.  It’s extremely fascinating and again, I feel like we should pay Zatanna something.  They all know this is the price of being in here and they give their consent.  If Zatanna senses any feelings of fear or panic, she won’t do it and their memory of ever going and entertaining the idea is wiped out.  All non-metas get proofed with the exception of Linda Park, who is to not be touched as per Wally’s instructions.

   Zatanna hates that we allow this out of fear that she might be a liability but since it's one person, she doesn’t stress it too much.  Maybe today she might given that we’re letting someone else Wally-proofed from proofing.  And there’s no question to be discussed about this because it’s his sister.  Iris West.

 

    I notice Hal kiss his girlfriend, Carol, a few cars down before he signals that he'll be back and walks towards me.  Excitedly, he says, “I can’t believe we’re going to corrupt West’s sister.” He rubs his hands in a scheme-like fashion. 

 

    “Let him hear you say that and watch how quick he kicks your ass,” I say suppressing a chuckle.  Patty Spivot passes by wearing an off-the-shoulder pink dress that leaves very little to the imagination due to how fucking tight it is.  Literally, her nipples are letting everyone know they feel.  Patty gives me a small wave and looks down.  At one point we were a thing but it ended once she left for Keystone.  Since she came back a couple of months ago she’s trying to start from where we left off but I haven’t been feeling it.   I haven’t really been feeling it with any type of girl.  Becoming more agile with my powers has been my main goal.  Besides, a non-meta girlfriend is not what I need right now, or ever. It’s too complicated and restrictive.

               

    Speaking of restrictions, the embodiment of them is Iris West.  I constantly wonder what Wally’s deal is with her.  Specifically, with me.  I get that it must be hard for a meta human to have a non-meta human sibling and that a strong feeling of protectiveness kicks in but he takes it to a whole other level with me.  Sure, he protects her from everyone else but he gives them a little more leverage.  She’s able to be in the same premise as them without inflicting 20 heart attacks on him.  If I’m even in the same hall wing as her, even if it’s from various feet away – this is usually the case; he tries to be discrete about leading me away.  I’ve only gone to his house twice and it lasted all of two seconds before he sped us away to Star City.  _Star Freaking City._

    I used to have this nagging feeling that really made me want to meet her.  I don’t know what it was, maybe I wanted to see her face, listen to how her voice sounded, see what her presence felt like, I don't fucking know - I just know I really wanted to meet her, which resulted in various fights with Wally.  Because of that, I’m totally indifferent towards her and kind of hate her a little bit.  I already have too many restrictions and can’t help but feel like a freak sometimes because of the “danger” to non-metas, to then have my best friend treat me like a savage too.  And so, I refrained and trained myself away from the weird urges that would arise when I thought of her.    I had to pull all the stops to cut that shit out because my mind would go to her vague face whenever I was down, and _especially_ when my powers exhausted me.  I trained myself to erase the idea of her.  It sounds fucking dramatic, I know; but damn if Wally treating me like the non-metas do - doesn’t get to me. 

      Hal claps his hands in front of me to grab my attention.  “Dude, did you hear me?”  Bruce was now on his side and scrutinizing me.

     “Nah man, I’m sorry. What was that?”

     “Iris? Has Wally laid off on you?”

      Scoffing I respond, “Hardly. You guys know I don’t mess with her like that at all after that time me and Wally fought and almost exposed our powers.  He’s been cool ever since and knows I won’t seek her out or anything but I know it's still a sore spot.”  I don’t tell them that if someone mentions her name he still side-eyes me to detect a reaction. 

     “Man, that sucks,” Hal says.  He rubs his chin and looks up at the now onyx clouds that seems to have green-jewels enmeshed in it.  Raven and Starfire.  “I have her for my literature class and she’s hot.”

      Bruce nods but isn’t really looking at me or Hal. “I can agree.”  I follow his line of sight and notice Selina talking to her friend but not really listening as she gives Bruce a flirty look.  Hal elbows him and he clears his throat, “Iris too. Wally can’t swear her off forever. Although, she seems like a killjoy - she probably doesn’t mind. She’s always reminding our literature teacher about our homework.”

      I laugh, “That’s hardly her being a killjoy, you just need to do your homework.”  

      Hal shakes his head and says, “Of course, _you_ would be at the defense of homework.  You can do it in like two point five seconds.”

      “Whatever.”  I spot Zatanna and jog towards her and wait for her to finish proofing Lena Luthor.  

      She doesn’t turn around but says, “Yes, I’ve proofed everyone except Linda. Ugh, I really hate that we have such an active liability in our grounds.”  She’s now facing me with clear annoyance written on her face. “And now Iris, whose dad works for the task force? I mean, come on!”

     “I know, I know,” I respond.  I put my hand over her shoulder and walk back towards John, Hal, and Bruce.   Wally speeds in once we make a stop at my car.

     Hal looks at me mischievously before asking Wally, “Where’s your sister? Thought her and Park were coming? Or did you decide against it even after the rules manual you gave us on what we could and couldn’t do.”  Bruce grins and looks down while Wally makes a mock-funny face at Hal.

     He leans against the car, trying to look cool but I know he’s on edge. “They’re here already.  They’re talking to Lane.”

     Suddenly, I feel my eyes tingling and I know my eyes are full of orange lightning.  _Shit._


End file.
